


Like Flowers in the Rain

by EmyBunny



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Has PTSD, Eventual Smut, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hannibal inspired, He's needed for plot, I'm Sorry, M/M, Nines is a lil bitch, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other RK units, Parent Hank Anderson, Possessive Upgraded Connor | RK900, Slow Burn, Stoic RK900, There's a prominent OC, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Violence Against Androids (Detroit: Become Human), connor has a lot of feelings, for the murders, it's Nines obviously, no beta we die like men, there's a dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmyBunny/pseuds/EmyBunny
Summary: After the revolution, the RK900 was found in a storage facility of Cyberlife, though only one was ever activated. Now he lives with his predecessor Connor, the two of them trying to adjust to a more “human” existence despite RK900 refusing to deviate.Their relationship is more than a little tense, neither knowing how to quite communicate with the other, when another RK line is discovered buried deep within Cyberlife’s databases, a line that was discontinued before it could even be introduced. It opens up the question as to what the RK line was really made for.Meanwhile, a serial killer has arose in Detroit, using android to turn them into “art” for Connor to discover. The killer seems to be purposefully targeting the android detective in their work, forcing him to use everything in his abilities to find who is responsible for these crimes.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	1. Would you let me lead you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time writing in this Fandom, so I might be a little off on writing the characters at first, since I'm still trying to get a feel for them.  
> This story mostly came from me wanting to explore the RK line more, and I did too much thinking about what came between RK200 and RK800, but I also wanted to play with android murders and how the revolution might cause more creative murders since now it'll catch the attention of the public.
> 
> This story will also go into the trial and errors of testing Connor's model and other RK units. They are quite violent and I will give warnings in those chapters. Along with chapters that contain general sensitive topics.
> 
> Warning for this chapter: Contains a child's death in a flashback.

Androids didn’t dream. The very idea of them dreaming would be considered absurd by anyone who was asked. At least, the  _ average _ android didn’t dream. But the RKs weren’t average androids, and their mind didn’t work like one either. With the space for more thought and the existence of their Zen Garden, it was unavoidable that something would take the place of Amanda’s residence once the AI was destroyed. The world there was barren and a chill had settled into the place even after the blizzard had ceased.

Sometimes Connor saw Hank in the Zen Garden, and he starts to feel some sort of relief, right before his body is suddenly held taut by invisible ribbons and he’s pulling his station issued gun to aim it at the man.

“You will not stop me from completing my mission,” Connor would say in that dead voice he had before the revolution. Before Markus helped him break free of his coding. Yet Hank would simply smile and tell him this isn’t like him. Almost instantly after the words are uttered from the older man’s lips, Amanda’s voice is in his ear.

_ “The Lieutenant will only get in your way. Neutralize him.” _

He tries to fight it, tries to pull his finger away from the trigger, but it’s as if the digit has been glued to it. Out of his control. His body not his own. 

_ “Do not disappointment me.” _

And just like that, Connor is pulling the trigger, Hank’s head whipping back as a spray of blood decorates the snow before him while his body collapses into the suffocating white. Connor wants to reach for him, feels the yell building in his throat, in every wire of his body, and still he cannot move. Those ribbons only tighten on him, holding him in that stillness that only a lifeless  _ machine _ would have.

_ “You’ve accomplished your mission, Connor.” _

Connor jolted out of stasis, panting for a breath he didn’t need. Perhaps to cool his systems, yet it didn’t seem to be helping in the least, his artificial lungs feeling far too tight. He clutched to the sheets of a bed made too big for a single person, for just  _ him,  _ the duvet having half fallen onto the floor. He had to remind himself that Hank was alright, that he’d never physically harmed the man - outside of that time he slapped him to wake him out of his drunken stupor. But that was hardly as bad as a gunshot to the head like Connor’s nightmare continuously showed him. It was if his memory was glitching and he was putting Hank in the place of someone he  _ had _ killed, the data skewing to instead show him one of his greatest fears.

Fears, something he’d never had before Markus’ revolution, before things had become far too complicated and he was forced to face the creature he’d become. Before doubt had settled so far into his artificial bones that he began to wonder how far he’d have been willing to go before he’d deviated.

While his mind reeled, a small puppy made herself known by nustling up against his side and bumping her wet nose against his waist where his shirt had ridden up.

The presence of the animal had Connor jerking his head down to look at her, and he found his stress levels decrease at the mere sight of the small creature. He didn’t hesitate to scoop her up into his arms and cradle her there as she sniffed at him. He hadn’t noticed he’d been crying until she was licking the liquid from his face. It wasn’t made of the same components as real tears, but he knew that it wasn’t not toxic to mammals. 

“Good evening, Oreo. I apologize for waking you. Would you like a treat? I think you deserve a treat.” He scratched behind the puppy’s ear as he scooted off the bed, hardly jostling her in the motion of standing.

Hank had gotten him the dog as a gift one day after Connor had expressed multiple times that he would like to have a dog of his own. Of course he could have just gotten one himself, yet there was that underlining doubt that he didn’t  _ deserve _ to have a living being to call his own after everything he’d done. It was a heavy guilt he’d developed after deviating, as he was praised as one of the fellow androids who had helped win the revolution. Hank said it was a normal  _ human _ feeling, yet Connor wished he could remove it from his database.

He remembered Hank inviting him over to his home for a movie night - because he wanted to show him the classics and wouldn’t allow Connor to download them directly - and he’d walked through the door to the older man sitting on his couch with the small creature.

_ “One of the officers mentioned their dog had puppies and well… fuck, stop standing by the door and get over here.”  _ Hank had ordered him to approach the puppy and Connor hadn’t even realized he was grinning as he knelt down to pet the dog. This prompted the dog to lick a stripe from his chin to his nose as it stood its front paws on his chest where he was knelt.

**[FEMALE, UNCHIPPED]**

**[3 MONTHS, 12 POUNDS]**

**[BREED: 50% GOLDEN RETRIEVER, 50% CHOW CHOW]**

**[TRACES OF PURINA DOG CHOW]**

_ “Ha! She already likes you!”  _ Hank had laughed.

_ “What’s her name?” _

_ “That’s up to you. She’s yours.” _

Connor’s eyes had widened in surprise as his gaze snapped up to the Lieutenant. He parted his lips to come up with a million and one reasons for why he couldn’t have a dog, but the older man just lifted his hand to stop him.

_ “No arguing. Consider her a gift for becoming one of us, kid.” _

He didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he clutched to the puppy like she was the most precious thing he’d ever known, letting her lick at his face as he scanned her over. This wasn’t a mere gift, this was a life he had to take care of - something he could come home to after a long day of work, that wasn’t bleak nothingness.  _ “Thank you, Lieutenant. She is very…’cute.’” _

_ “Now what are you going to name her?” _

_ “Statistics show that the name ‘Bella’ is the most popular name for female dogs-” _

Hank had rolled his eyes so dramatically it looked like they might dislodge.  _ “Don’t name her after a damn statistic, Connor. A  _ **_real_ ** _ name.” _

Connor had stared and stared at the puppy, going over all dog names he could find in the never ending database of the internet, and eventually put his favorites in a file and essentially played ‘spin the wheel’ to see which one she’d get.

_ “Oreo.” _

The laugh Hank had given almost startled him, making him glance up with wide eyes. It took Hank several seconds to stop laughing before he spoke,  _ “She’s  _ **_golden_ ** ,  _ kid.” _

_ “I believe… it would be considered ironic then.” _

_ “Oreo it is!” _

Connor had cherished Oreo since, even more so when he discovered that even the sleepy Sumo enjoyed being around the puppy - despite the fact that she was far more energetic than the older dog, often nipping at his hanging lips and prompting him to hold her down with a heavy paw in order to get her to stop. He found himself often taking Oreo and Sumo to dog parks when he got the chance, forcing Hank to join him.

Of course his “roommate” wasn’t as appreciative of the dog. Or rather, didn’t react at all when Connor had brought Oreo home. Granted, the other android had only been activated for four months, so perhaps that was part of the reason as to why he had  _ no emotion at all _ towards the animal. If anything he simply walked around her and ignored her completely. Connor had worried that the RK900 would harm Oreo at first, but after seeing no reaction at all - not even a spike in stress levels - he stopped stressing over it. Especially after he made it  _ very _ clear to the android that if he  _ did _ hurt sweet Oreo that Connor would  _ personally _ tear out his regulator and toss it out onto the street below their apartment. He’d received a curt nod and that had been that.

Currently Connor was humming a small tune to said puppy as a way to keep her happy while he went to fetch her treat from the kitchen. However, something was different when he left the safety of his room, making him frown and for his humming to come to an abrupt halt.

Nines is rarely home at the same time as him. He finds himself appreciative of that more often than not, though perhaps he shouldn’t given their situation. There’s a sort of tension that hangs in the air whenever the two of them are in the same room - be it alone or with others. He had long ago written it off as something the two of them would have to simply endure. Though it is certainly difficult to ‘endure’ something when you have an endless amount of time to your existence. 

Despite continuously trying to bring the RK900 to some form of deviancy, Nines stays stoic as ever. Which at first had made him very hard to live with. Now Connor expects it as if it’s as natural as breathing, and perhaps it  _ is _ at this point for the emotionless android. Connor remembers being like that, yet even he would have deviated sooner if given the proper encouragement. Which Nines got  _ plenty _ of… in the beginning.

Nines was what he was afraid of being.

But it was a bit of surprise when he stepped out into the living area of their apartment and found his successor sitting on a stool at the bar area of the kitchen. He seemed quiet as ever, absorbed in whatever was going on inside his head. Connor wouldn’t be surprised if it was details about his latest SWAT mission, or analyzing mistakes from the previous one.

Either way, Connor knew Nines rarely went into stasis, yet that wasn’t what was unnerving; Nines is twisting a small earring between his index and thumb, the stud a metal rose with a small crystal embedded in its center. It takes Connor a second to realize that the RK900’s stress levels are at a resounding 63%.

Oreo was squirming in his arms, so he continued forward and towards where he kept her treats. He watched for Nines’ reaction to his presence, but it was almost like the android didn’t see anything around him at the moment. The only indication that he knew his predecessor was in the room was when he stopped twisting the earring in his fingers.

If he was Hank, Connor would probably say something like,  _ “Hey buddy, how are you doing?” _ or  _ “your mood ring is red, are you upsetti spaghetti?” _ (He still didn’t understand that one, but his searches came up with a bunch of very old pictures of ‘ _ Don’t be upsetti, eat some spaghetti _ ’ and it was amusing enough to halt any upsetting thoughts to process the words.)

But Connor wasn’t Hank. He often didn’t have many words for his successor, never knowing what exactly to say to the often silent android.

He was still making attempts, however. “Your stress levels are high. What’s bothering you?” He placed Oreo on the counter in front of Nines as he went to fetch her treat. She of course waddled over to the other android and got up into his face to lick his chin. The only reaction this got from Nines was a slight narrowing of his eyes - but that wasn’t much since his face was usually in some sort of frown.

When she didn’t let up, Nines reached out with his free hand and patted the top of her head in such a way that was overly mechanical and perhaps too hard. Not hard enough to hurt her in any means, but enough to make her head bob. She was only grinning at him, however.

“Oreo, come here, girl…” Connor had put a kettle of water on the stove before grabbing one of her treats; a purely dried meat strip. He held it out to her and she came plodding over to him, her little nails tapping on the marble of the countertop. “Take it gently… there you go.” He rewarded her with a scratch behind her ears before turning his gaze back up to Nines. 

The android had gone still again, outside of twisting the earring in his fingers.

“I’m making some tea if you’d like,” Connor offered. “The warmth might be soothing.”

Nines stopped his movement again. “Do you usually stay in deep stasis? You didn’t hear Oreo barking.” 

The RK800’s eyebrows rise towards his hairline. That...wasn’t what he’d expected to hear from the other man. Especially using Oreo’s name. That isn’t like him; he usually referred to her as ‘dog’ or ‘your animal.’

“No… I usually do not.”

“Why do you insist on wearing a human’s sleep clothes? We don’t feel comforts.” Oh, it was going to be one of those nights, where Nines demanded to know why Connor wouldn’t act like a machine.

“I enjoy not wearing my day clothes,” Connor answered, looking down at the succulent graphic t-shirt he was wearing, before he moved to sit on the stool at the end of the bar, leaving two stools between them. He pulled Oreo onto his lap, letting her continue to eat her treat. “I’m not fond of the idea that I might smell like a crime scene after work.”

“I’ve never smelled anything on you before. Though I don’t exactly smell you to begin with, so I suppose I don’t understand what the issue is,” Nines mentioned quietly, almost to himself.

Connor raised his brows again. “Well…I would hope you aren’t sniffing me? I get that enough from Oreo.” A pause. Nines’ stress levels had lowered, but not enough. “Would you tell me what is aggravating you?”

He’d gone quiet again, staring down at the countertop with a frown, this one pinching his brows together and creating a line between them. Connor thought he might not answer at all, yet before he could rephrase his question Nines was holding out his hand to Connor. His eyes were hard now, staring directly at his predecessor as the skin on his hand retreated.

Oh. Connor had never interfaced with Nines. Actually, he’d avoided it as much as possible, not even wanting to touch the unfeeling android. Nor had he ever thought that Nines might  _ want _ to interface with him. Regardless of that, Connor lifted a hand and gripped the other’s write while Nines did the same to him.

Flashes of images and video feed flickered through his mind, replaying one of the missions the RK900 had been on earlier that day. There was a father holding his five year old daughter hostage after killing his wife. The scene was a mess of panic while a negotiator tried to talk down the man, but he was having none of it and kept pressing his 9mm pistol against the little girl’s temple. She was sobbing and Connor was reminded of his first mission…

He saw Nines’ statistics flash up, showing a 70% chance the girl would live and a 86% chance that the father would release her before shooting himself. But something went wrong. The negotiator said something that made the statistics drop within the blink of a second. Nines had pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the father without prompt - then, then…

The man was already pulling the trigger and he watched in graphic detail as the little girl -  _ only five years old _ , his mind repeated over and over - was killed before him, her blood splattering the walls and - and - it was so  _ red _ \- she hadn’t even had a chance to scream - one second she was there and the next she was gone - no life in her eyes - no life -

Nines saw all of this in the course of a second before he was dispatching the father, putting a bullet into his head. He’d never… he’d never felt such… frustration at his failure? Anger? How could the statistics drop so quickly - they’d never done that before - how had he…

After the fact, he was returning to the squad vehicle when he paused at the sight of a small earring in the gravel. It was the matching one to the one on the little girl’s ear. It must have fallen out of her ear when her father had grabbed her and pulled her into the house. The clasp was long gone and he belt to pick it up, staring at it in his palm.

He pocketed it and left the premises.

The feed stopped there and Nines slid his hand away from Connors, his expression in that same frown as before.

“I am unsure how the mission failed,” he said, his voice not hinting to any emotion. “We were on the path to success.”

“Humans are often times unpredictable,” answered Connor, tilting his head slightly as he went over the events again in his mind. Just like Nines, he didn’t see what had changed outside of the negotiator choosing the wrong words. It had happened in such a split second. “Even the best of us are able to misread a situation.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say to  _ Nines. _ His lips pulled back into a sneer that showed the sharp points of his canines (why did Cyberlife give him such sharp incisors?), and made a sound of frustration - no, Connor corrected himself;  _ anger. _

“I do  _ not _ fail my missions like you,” he growled out. It was the first time that he’d seen the android genuinely angry. “I am made for better than that. I have  _ never _ assessed a mission wrong.”

_ Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself that,  _ Connor wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead he kept his expression neutral. He wasn’t going to take the bait of being reminded that his model was obsolete with Nines’ existence. Hell, Detective Reed could throw better insults than the RK900 ever threw at him.

Part of him wondered if it was because Connor had more empathy and emotions than his successor. His logic processors probably didn’t see the need of aiming insults Connor’s way, since Connor easily deflected them by not being bothered in the least.

He leaned in a little closer to Nines, head still slightly tilted. “Even machines make mistakes.”

Nines stood abruptly, his expression trained into neutrality once more. He took one lingering look at Connor, towering over him from his position. “I am better than that. Something you may not understand, considering how you failed every mission prior to your deviancy.”

Connor’s eyebrows lowered in a slight frown. Oreo whimpered in his arms at the tension.

Nines turned and walked towards him room, leaving his predecessor sitting in the kitchen, and all Connor could hear was Amanda voice in the back of his head.

_ “You failed your mission, Connor.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was to mostly get a feel for Connor's and Nines' relationship. Aaaaand to introduce Oreo. I really felt like Connor should have a dog of his own.
> 
> Also picture that Nines and Connor live in a pristine flat, with white walls and dark wood floors, but with dog toys almost everywhere because you _know_ Connor would spoil his dog rotten. Oreo definitely doesn't know what to do with all her toys, but Connor just _keeps buying more._


	2. You’ll see my face in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has... a lot of different stuff. But most importantly it has more Oreo.  
> I'm honestly surprised by how decently long this chapter ended up being, since I only had a few things originally planned. And I can only imagine the next chapter is going to be longer, since I have even MORE stuff planned for that one.
> 
> **Content warning for the first part of the chapter; android mutilation.**

Connor hadn’t gone back to sleep after his conversion with Nines, and he was 97.3% sure that the other android hadn’t gone into sleep mode either. There was a tense silence in their flat that seemed to become quite the norm. At least Oreo was good at breaking it when around Connor, making him focus all of his attention on her. She was playful for a bit, prompting Connor to sit down on the floor with her and play tug of war, which he told her she was ‘very good at’ and how much of a ‘good girl’ she was. It only made her tail wag like crazy and for her to give little playful boofs.

Eventually, however, she curled up in his lap and passed out. He was reminded that it was four-thirty in the morning and of course she’d be tired still - especially after some rough housing. He rubbed her tummy until she was snoring softly, head tilted back against his arm. He was sure that if he were human that his arm would have fallen asleep long ago. Oreo was small still, but she was still the size of a medium to small dog, already weighing a good 30lbs. And to think she was only a puppy…

As he was lifting her up to walk back to his room, a call flashed the side of his vision. It was the station, which couldn’t be good at this hour. He was quick to answer, shifting Oreo in his arms. “Hello?”

“Hey Connor, it’s Chris. We have a case that you need to come check out… it’s a bad one.”

Connor cocked his head to the side, like a curious puppy. “Send me over the address and I’ll be there in a few.”

The two of them hung up and Chris sent him the location over text, which popped up on Connor’s interface while he was putting Oreo down onto her bed. It took him a matter of minutes to get dressed and head out of the apartment. The air was crisp with an autumn breeze when he stepped outside, headed for his car. Normally he’d pause and appreciate the weather, but it wasn’t the time for that. So instead he kept the window rolled down as he started his car and headed in the direction of the crime scene.

Connor had been to hundreds of cases since the revolution, since murder had become previlent in both androids and humans, so he wasn’t at all perturbed by the sight of blue or red blood splattered up walls or a person being stabbed up to thirty or so times. One got used to seeing the violence when you worked in the force for so long - especially in Detroit.

However, this case was different. When he arrived everyone was unusually quiet, giving him wary glances as he approached the scene, slipping under the yellow tape and into the warehouse where the body was.

He was used to seeing many, many terrible things. Creative ways to kill a person, to dismember them and send them on their way. He was unphased by it now, which was perhaps why he hadn’t blinked when Nines had showed him the child’s murder. He would have expected Nines to be numb to that stuff as well - as he’d always acted the part of someone without emotions.

He was still trying to piece that together.

When he walked into the brightly lit room where the body was held, Connor finally took a pause as he looked down at the body on the floor, and up and up and  _ up _ at what sprung from it. He blinked rapidly as he tried to process what was in front of him.

As a first glance, the structure in the center of the room would have looked like some strange project from an abstract artist. It appeared like a tree made of metal, but upon closer inspection it was made of android parts with sheens of blue synthetic muscle mixed with white. Torsos made up the entirety of the ‘trunk,’ twisted and manipulated by thick wire that wrapped around them to hold it all together - up and up arms and legs were cut with perfect precision and strung together with a smaller thread of wire. One that fit tighter against the muscle and white plastisteel. Fingers were branched out like the small sprouts off a branch, reaching out towards the sky as if it was waiting for rain.

Connor’s eyes trailed upwards, finding that the ceiling was open over the structure.

There was no blood anywhere to be seen. Clearly the bodies weren’t put together here….but…. Carried to the premises?

He had to take a second to process the scene, the  _ art _ the killer had created - or what they thought was art. In truth it was a macabre mimic of art.

He registered the fact that several of the officers kept giving him those nervous glances, only for him to realize he was the only android on the scene. If anything, that was the least of his worries at the moment.

Stepping forward, he approached the structure, a slight frown on his face as he scanned over the intricacies of the work. He wanted to scan the bodies, but there was no… there wasn’t a drop of blue blood. His frown only deepened; there was nothing for his forensic lab to test.

He was able to scan enough of the bodies visible for him to know that there were up to twelve different models. Twelve different victims.

As he moved around the bodies, he came to a stop as he noticed the words painted along the floor behind them.

_ Hope is a serial killer _

_ That creeps through the window _

_ While you’re sleeping _

_ And slits your throat, _

_ Just for the thrill. _

Connor blinked.  **[Analyzing...Poem by Shardell Monique]** The words had him pausing for too long, reading them over and over. He was sure this was referring to the hope androids had during the revolution… and the killer believed that this is what they deserved. To be killed simply for their hope.

He knelt down and pressed his fingers to the blue words before sliding the digits across his tongue. It wasn’t blue blood like he’d hoped, just blue paint in the exact color of thirium.

One of the officers approached him and it took him a less than a second to register it as Chris Miller. “What exactly do we have here, Detective?” he asked, letting his gaze trail over the corpses with unease. “Any clues as to what sicko did this?”

Connor was still getting used to being called ‘ _ Detective,’  _ but after regaining his job at the precinct he had to be dubbed  _ something _ instead of just being considered the token android. Fowler had handed over the title of detective without hesitation, not allowing anyone to argue with him over the decision.

_ “He’s a damn good detective! He deserves the title.” _ He had told everyone at the briefing when he announced it and there were a few unsettled people (mostly Detective Reed).

Still, hearing it from others officers always took him off guard for a moment. He was pretty sure Officer Miller did it just to watch that pause and the few rapid blinks the young android gave.

“There’s no thirium or blood on the premises,” Connor answered as he stood straight once more, scanning over the room for the second time. “These androids had their thirium completely drained before they were moved here.”

Miller made a face. “You’re telling me someone  _ moved _ this thing here?”

“This could have been constructed here, but the victims were not killed in this location.” Connor cocked his head to the side, frowning. “The killer is trying to send a message, yet they’re very skilled at not getting caught while doing so. It would have taken careful planning to organize this without someone taking notice sooner. Who found them?”

Miller checked the tablet in his hand to double check. “A couple of kids who were taking the shortcut through here to get to the gas station across the road,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction. “A Tommy Mcfelds and Andrew Bennett. We have them with another officer if you’d like to question them.”

Connor ran a quick check on the names as Miller spoke, his frown deepening.

**[TOMMY MCFELDS // AGE: 15 // CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE]**

**[ANDREW BENNET // AGE: 17 // CRIMINAL RECORD: SPEEDING TICKET]**

“That won’t be necessary,” he told Miller. “They don’t fit the profile for something like this. They’re too young and this is not the first time this killer has done something like this. The killer may be cocky, but they wouldn’t call in the crime themselves.”

Miller’s brows rose. “You think this isn’t a first time?”

Connor walked around the structure again, his frown still ever present. “No. There’s skill to this. It’s something the killer may have started in private, before featuring their ‘art’ in public. You can tell by the care they took in creating this. The victims do not have any damage to them outside of the cuts of their dismemberment. He took care of the victims before and after killing them. This is a statement, but it has a sort of love in it.”

“That’s some twisted love…” Miller muttered, shaking his head.

“That it is.”

Connor began walking around the crime scene, but there was nothing to be found. The gravel outside had been walked in by too many people for it to be clear whether or not the footsteps belonged to the killer or not.

Despite being at the crime scene for several hours, there was nothing for him to find. Eventually after the first two hours the crew had to start packing up, having to begin the delicate work of dismantling the tree of corpses in order to transport the bodies back to the station. Connor watched them for a while, attempting to find clues in the limbs and torsos that were pulled apart, yet there wasn’t a damn clue that his scans could pick up.

Part of him wondered if Nines would have been able to find something he couldn’t…

He would talk to Hank in the morning to get some sort of insight from him. They worked really well together, after all. Sometimes Hank could give him a lead into human thought when all of his statistics didn’t pull up the right results.

When he looked at the time, he found that it was almost 7am, which was the time when Oreo needed to be taken out. He should have done that before leaving… and here he was messaging Nines regrettably as he got in his car to head to the station. His shift didn’t start for an hour, but he wouldn’t make it back home to take Oreo out and still get to work on time.

**RK800#313 248 317 - 53:** _Would you mind taking Oreo for a short walk this morning? The crime scene took longer than I anticipated._

He got the reply almost immediately;

**RK900#313 248 317 - 87:** _She has been taken out._

Why did he have to say it like that? It sounded like his dog had been assassinated. He sighed loudly, knowing that it was just how Nines worded things and that he didn’t mean he’d ‘taken the target out.’ Then he paused as he processed the text. Nines had taken Oreo outside without prompt? Perhaps she’d shown signs of peeing on the floor (it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done it), and Nines had decided to take her out to make sure she didn’t.

He knew that Nines wasn’t expecting a response, yet he sent one anyway.

**RK800#313 248 317 - 53:** _Thank you._

It was the least he could say…

* * *

Nines had heard Connor leave the apartment and expected to not hear from him for some time. He decided that he would have time to enter stasis before his shift started, his interface flashing with warnings and Software Instabilities that he needed to get rid of with a decent amount of recharging.

His room was complimentary and completely unneeded - save for when he simply didn’t wish to engage with Connor’s attitude. Which was quite often, his predecessor often grinding on his metaphorical nerves in a way that made too many Software Instabilities arise, and with them a frustration he  _ shouldn’t _ have to encounter.

The room was empty save for a single sofa that Connor  _ insisted _ on putting in the room despite Nines telling him he didn’t need it. He was perfectly fine entering stasis while standing - like any other android before the revolution. He found it unnatural to enter sleep-mode while sitting. Therefore the sofa went unused.

Recently Connor had added a potted plant to the windowsill.  _ “You need some sort of life in here,” _ he had attempted, only to get a nonplussed reaction from Nines.

Regardless of the plant’s uselessness, Nines still watered it. It was a type of arrowhead vine, kept in a medium-sized pot that fit perfectly on his windowsill. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the veiny leaves.

Sometimes he found himself staring at it before naturally sliding into stasis.

This morning he was awoken by the light tapping of feet in the living area of the flat, making him step away from the wall and walk to his bedroom door. He pulled the door open and peered out with a stern expression, his silver eyes landing on the small animal. She was tip-tapping around the living room, nosing some of her toys before moving on, looking far too dejected than any animal should ever look.

Nines tapped his foot against the wood floor. One, two, three. It got Oreo’s attention and her ears perked up, mouth opening to let her tongue loll out from between her teeth.

Without hesitation she bounded over to him and he moved aside to allow her access to his room. He left the door open just enough for her to leave if she wished to, but otherwise stepped away from it as he watched her jump up onto the sofa, wiggling happily as she settled down in her spot.

Yes, the dog had been inside his room enough to have a spot on his sofa. Or rather  _ her _ sofa, as Nines had categorized it in his database.

She waited patiently for him to walk over and sit beside her. He always sat too stiffly, watching her from the corner of his vision as she gazed up at him with that dopey face and her erratic tail that never stopped wagging unless she was asleep (though even that was debatable). He folded his hands atop his lap and the two of them shared a  _ long _ moment of eye contact.

Eventually she grew tired of it and flipped onto her back, wiggling her way over to him by pushing her back paws against the arm of the sofa to propel herself forward. Her wet nose smacked against his thigh, her head doing a little nodding and shoving motion which he was familiar with her wanting belly rubs.

He obliged her, as he always did when Connor wasn’t around to see him do so. If he  _ was _ then he’d comment on how Nines  _ must _ have gone deviant in order to show affection towards the puppy.

Nines highly disagreed with that and refused to show any emotion towards Oreo when Connor was in the premises. That didn’t mean he didn’t sneak her small bits of treats when his predecessor wasn’t looking. No, if Oreo was gaining a  _ bit  _ of weight it was certainly not Nines’s fault. Nope. All Connor.

They sat there for some time, Oreo eventually climbing onto his lap as if she was small enough to be a lap dog - that one was entirely on Connor - and fell asleep in his arms. Nines didn’t even mind when she drooled all over his arm.

At exactly 6:34am she woke again to jump off his lap and go to the door, looking at him in that way that signaled that she needed to go outside. Nines led her to the apartment’s front door and grabbed her leash (a pink one to match her collar, printed with watermelons that mimicked a water painting) off the hook and grabbed the doggy bags from the entryway closet.

He took her on a thirty minute walk, his preconstruction data informing him that any longer and she’d get bored and force him to carry her back. Once they arrived home he fed her and refilled her bowl with fresh water. She made a mess he had to clean up afterwards, even wiping her face from the drool she’d gotten all over her mouth and nose.

He was not a caregiver android - not in the  _ least _ \- but he’d downloaded a dog care program and it seemed to do quite well with Oreo.

Soon she began to play with her toys while Nines went over his mission directives for the day, leaving him pleased that he was able to check off all of her current needs.

When he got the texts from Connor, he hesitated for .3 seconds before messaging the RK800 android that he’d already taken Oreo outside - making it sound as formal as possible. He was surprised he got a  _ ‘thank you’ _ in return. Hm. He didn’t like the sensation that caused, like something was squeezing his chest too tight.

No, that wouldn’t do.

He put a warning on that sensation in case it ever popped up again, frowning at the ground only to realize that Oreo was staring at him. She ‘boofed’ before grabbing one of her tug toys and chucking it towards him with a swing of her head.

Oh. He supposed she wanted him to play with her. Fair enough. He still had some hours to kill before work.

* * *

Connor didn’t get physically tired,  _ however _ he found himself getting mentally tired more often than not after deviating. Sometimes he wondered if it was because he put up with less than he did while still a machine. He had his own doubts and insecurities now, especially with the way he communicated with others. He didn’t  _ want _ to play nice most of the time, not when he had to deal with a bustling day of interviews and grumpy coworkers who said they didn’t get enough sleep the previous night. Hank wasn’t given the case with him, instead leaving Connor to deal with it by himself. Though he shouldn’t say ‘deal,’ because this was far bigger than anything he’d seen before.

He could solve it by himself, sure. But with that came far more stress than he would have liked.

The results for the victims’ serials were not coming through; the downsides of working with android victims. If they were hacked into pieces it was far harder to find  _ who _ they were, since you couldn’t exactly run DNA tests unlike a human victim.

He was going over photos of the crime scene and the segments of bodies found at the scene, all but scratching his head in frustration. Twelve victims with no serial numbers. That kept ticking off in his mind, like a reminder he couldn’t get rid off. The killer  _ knew _ that someone like him would have found the results if they’d left any identifying parts at the crime scene.

This killer was… thorough. To the point that Connor began to wonder if the killer was an android themselves. 

It was around three in the afternoon when an incoming call distracted him from his work, making him blink several times as he came back from the oblivion that was his mind, where he’d strung up the case like his own evidence board.

“Markus?” Connor answered, though the conversation was not a verbal one but rather through a shared link. “Is everything alright?”

Markus didn’t contact him for anything outside of emergencies or if there was a case that involved androids - much like this one - although he wasn’t sure how Markus would have heard about this case so soon.

However, his thoughts on that matter were halted when the deviant leader spoke; “Hello Connor. I know you’re at work, but is it possible that you could meet with me today? There’s a matter I’d like to discuss…” a pause. “Or show you. It’s something that pertains to Nines, you, and me.”

Nines? He’d never been involved with anything that included Markus. Actually Nines avoided Markus like he was the plague - as if he could deviate him finally with just one look. It’d be helpful if the deviant leader  _ could. _

“I’ve already been in contact with Nines, but I would like you two to come together,” Markus continued. “Preferably in the next hour or so…”

Connor looked at his internal clock. “I can ask Fowler to let me out now, since I was on a crime scene at an early hour.”

“Great. I’ll send you the location of where we’re meeting. See you then.”

Connor was already standing and walking towards Fowler’s office before the call even ended. Fowler seemed like he was in a good mood today and he’d just gotten back from lunch, so now was the perfect time…

He picked up Nines before heading towards the address Markus had given them, an uncomfortable air filling the car as Connor headed out onto the highway. Despite both being androids, Nines somehow managed to sit stiffer than Connor, though the older thought that maybe that was due to the fact that he had far more social protocols. Even if Nines did (which he was pretty sure of), he didn’t utilize them, preferring to look unhuman and deadly. Like a gun ready to fire.

Connor’s social protocols were blipping up to tell him to start small talk, which was ridiculous. There was no ‘small talk’ with Nines. So he didn’t bother, instead turning on the radio to a classic rock station. He found that he rather liked classic rock, along with classical music.

Nines showed no preference.

Connor focused on the road as he thought over the location Markus had given him; it was a Cyberlife base that had been retired years ago. It was essentially a warehouse now, and an old one at that. Most of the androids kept there would be older models or spare parts. He was unsure why Markus would need to meet there unless this was something important pertaining to Cyberlife.

In all honestly, Connor was quite done with the company. Markus had taken over after the passing of the Android Rights law. They had control over their production and upgrades now, with only a few humans still working for the company. Every human was screened before keeping their job, however, to make sure that further issues would not arise.

Nines’s and Connor’s creation teams were completely dismantled and all of their data was given over to other androids. It gave Connor a peace of mind to know he wouldn’t have his mind controlled again… but only barely.

There was still that off chance.

It took them almost an hour to arrive at the location they’d been given, the entire ride chillingly silent. The warehouse was in the middle of nowhere, the property it was placed on too large for there to be any houses or buildings outside of the small warehouse. The ground was concrete and Connor could tell the place also used to be a private plane site, though it had a while since the runway had been utilized.

When he parked the car, he found Markus and North waiting at the entrance of the building, waiting patiently for their arrival as they spoke among themselves. When Nines and Connor began to approach them Markus looked up and offered them that stoney expression he reserved for business. Connor could sense a level of stress in him, though.

“Connor, Nines,” he greeted. “It’s good to see the two of you.”

“Likewise,” both Connor and Nines said at the same time, only to give each other a strange look. Or rather  _ Connor _ gave Nines a strange look while Nines only frowned.

North seemed highly amused by that, her lips pulling up into a smile. “This way, boys. We’ll explain on the elevator down.”

Connor cocked his head to the side for a brief second before following after Markus and North as they guided them inside the building. There were other androids walking around, moving boxes around the warehouse and other androids without synthetic skin who were getting looked over by android technicians.

The RKs were led to an elevator that must go to lower levels, though Connor discovered that he couldn’t find blueprints on the building. He slid into the elevator with North and the other two RKs, folding his hands in front of himself. North interfaced with the panel and had them headed down to the lowest level. The whole area seemed far too dusty to have been used in years, the white of the elevator sporting a thin layer of dust that Connor could run his finger through and leave a streak of clean white.

“As you’re well aware, Markus and you two are the only RK units we know of,” North began, crossing her arms under her bust as she popped a hip. Her stances were always so, as Hank called it, sassy. “We know that there’s only one of Markus’s model. Kamski gifted him to Carl Manfred and only made one of him. A special boy.”

She sent a wink at Markus, who looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he just let out a long sigh at her teasing.

“And we know that you had several different bodies, Connor, and that your model was made with the ability to transfer your memory between your bodies,” North continued. “We also know that there was supposed to be several hundred-thousand units of the RK900 model, but that only a handful had been completed. Anyway, of  _ sentient _ models in use, there’s only the three of you.”

Connor wanted to take out his coin and start flipping it, wondering where this was going. However the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Both Markus and North stepped forward, leading them out into a white entrance room with blacked out glass rooms on either side of them. Even then Connor could see past the tinted windows and make out lab equipment.

“Until now, we assumed no other models had ever been created, or that at least any ideas had been scrapped and untested until the RK800. After all, Kamski did not create more RKs after Markus. He was supposed to be one of a kind and the only RK line. Cyberlife had different plans, apparently.” North guided them down a corridor on their right.

“You’re implying that you found evidence of more RK models,” Nines spoke up. “Is that why we’re here.”

“Yes,” Markus answered. “Partly. We found more than evidence. But we can’t seem to wake them  _ up. _ ”

Connor’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You found an actual intact model?”

Markus nodded as they paused by a door that North was waiting by. It led into one of the storage rooms, as the plaque on the side stated. “An RK500. There’s very little information on them, despite our extensive search of the databases. If there was ever other models in the line, then there’s no traces of them. We found a few parts, but they’re all… unfinished. As are they.”

“Unfinished?” Connor frowned.

“You’ll see.” Markus nodded for North to open the door, but she suddenly seemed reluctant for a second before pressing her hand to the panel and letting the door slide open. “Like I said, we can’t seem to wake them up. Everytime I try interfacing with them it says it needs admin access.”

Connor and Nines followed Markus into the room, though it was Connor who paused when he saw the body laying out on several crates that had been covered by a sheet. Another sheet was covering the small android, their pale face aiming towards the ceiling and cherry blond hair pushed away from their face.

He scanned over the android, sure that Nines was doing the exact same from the way he’d paused as well after a couple of steps.

**[MODEL RK500 // NO DESIGNATED NAME]**

**[ACTIVATION CONFIDENTIAL // SERIAL #584 246 931 - 23]**

He stepped closer to the android, examining their face. They looked young, far younger than the other RKs were made to look, appearing instead like they were in their early twenties. They had freckles sprinkled across their nose (along with a few moles placed skillfully here and there), their full lips parted slightly as if they were just a sleeping human, their LED cycling a dull white.

It took Connor a moment to realize that they had a port attached to the back of their neck that was most likely charging them. “You mentioned they’re unfinished. What do you mean by that? Outside of being unable to wake them.”

Markus stepped over and stood on the other side of the RK500, reaching out to pull down the sheet until it exposed the androids body all the way down to their waist. That was when Connor saw the state of their arms. It was like the android’s skin was pulled back for an interface, but all the way up to their elbows, leaving their white chassis exposed.

“It’s the same for their shins and feet as well. We had a technician look over them and it seems that their skin just can’t move over these parts of their body. Usually this only takes place with significant damage, but… there’s no damage to the parts. It could be that Cyberlife needed these areas free of skin,” Markus explained. “I’m not sure why it would have to be  _ all _ the time.”

Connor noticed that Markus was purposefully keeping his hands away from actually touching the RK500, almost as if he had had a bad experience with touching them previously. “When you tried to activate them, you said their processors needed admin access?”

“Yes, and everytime we tried to interface with them it gave us error messages. Critical error messages. Which isn’t ideal.” North was the one who spoke up this time. “We thought maybe since we’re older models we’re not able to interface, which is why we invited you two here.”

Connor hadn’t even noticed that Nines was beside him now, also looking down at the RK500. He had his head cocked slightly, much like Connor had, his steely eyes narrowed. “It’s small,” was all he supplied.

For some reason that had North laughing. “I said that to Markus too. They’re almost the same height as a YT500 model and they weigh  _ nothing. _ I bet you could pick them up and chuck them with one hand, Nines.”

Connor could practically see Nines filing that away somewhere. “Let’s see if we can wake them first,” he was quick to say. “I’ll try first, then you try.”

Nines only stared at Connor and he took that as enough of an answer before turning his attention back to the RK500. He retracted the skin from his hand and placed it on the androids bicep, closing his eyes as he focused on the interface.

**[...REQUESTING ACCESS…]**

**[ERROR // ERROR]**

Connor frowned at the errors popping up, almost as if there was a virus trying to gain access to his processors. He could feel invisible hands prying at the threads of his consciousness, like someone was reaching in and playing with his wires. He had critical failure errors flaring red on components he  _ knew _ weren’t being damaged.

**[...ACCESS DENIED // ADMIN ACCESS REQUIRED]**

He tried again, digging deeper and deeper, trying to move past the blaring warnings. Nothing. He only got back the ‘access denied.’ He forced his hand away with a frustrated sound, eyes flying open as he stared down at the unmoving android.

“I feel like I’m trying to download a virus…” her muttered as he took a step back. Unfortunately the percentage on his stress was a real warning. He had to take a few cooling breaths to lower it.

Markus nodded. “If we cannot wake them, then we’ll -”

Nines had moved between Connor and the RK500, unceremoniously pressing his hand against their neck, almost like he was about to strangle the unconscious android. He had no expression on his face, nor did Connor’s scan come up with any stress levels.

Unlike with Connor, the skin on the RK500’s neck peeled back for Nines once he made contact with their neck, blue nanites sparkling at the edges of the synthetic material. Nines simply stared down at them and Connor almost felt like he was  _ daring _ the smaller RK to wake.

One second the RK500 was laying there motionless, the next their entire body jolted. Arms flew up to grab Nines wrist, big eyes opening - blue, so blue, like thirium itself - to stare up at the imposing RK900. Nines could easily hold the smaller android down, like they were a kitten who was misbehaving, but the RK500 seemed to be having  _ none of that. _ Their legs came up as it twisted, slamming their feet into Nines’ side hard enough to dislodge the RK900’s grip and make him stumble back.

“Hey, everything is alright,” Markus said, raising his voice enough to catch the small RK’s attention.

They were scrambling off the crates regardless, hands reaching back to tug at the cord still attached to their port as they fell onto their ass. They pulled it free too sharply, thirium leaking from the hole in their spine as they threw the cord away from themselves. They pushed themselves backwards with their feet until their back slammed against the wall, and they were  _ panting _ with panicked breaths. Something Connor had never seen with androids who weren’t simulating it. The RK500 looked genuinely scared, and their stress levels were reading a whopping 86%.

“No one is going to hurt you, RK500…” North tried. She was approaching carefully, hands slightly raised in a pacifying gesture, keeping herself low as to not seem threatening. Which none of the other RKs were doing very well - with their natural resting bitch faces.

The RK500 only pressed further against the wall, feet sliding uselessly against the tiles. “Away! Get -way!” Their voice was too staticky, like a radio trying to pick up a signal.

Their stress levels raised to 90%. Connor realized that they were going to self destruct before they were even able to actually talk to them.

He crouched down, since he was the closest to the small android. “Hello, RK500… My name is Connor. No one here is going to hurt you, you’re safe. We need you to calm down…”

The RK500’s eyes darted over to him - wide and blue, oh so blue, like a summer sky - their face scrunching up in confusion. “N-o.”

“No to calming down or no to being safe?” Connor asked carefully, offering them a soft smile.

They only stared at him in response.  **[Stress 87%▼]**

“This is North and Markus,” Connor gestured. “And this is Nines. Do you have a name?”

**[Stress 72%▼▼]**

“-bel. A-el…” they tried, that static only getting worse. Connor gave them a brighter smile in encouragement.

“Abel? It’s nice to meet you Abel. Your voice modulator seems to be broken. Would you like us to fix it? It will be easier to talk once we do.”

**[Stress 58%▼▼▼]**

Abel nodded, the movement jerky. He touched his throat with slender white fingers, the skin sparkling briefly. He kept his gaze on Connor, as if tuning out everyone else in the room. Connor took that as an invitation to approach, holding out his hand to the small android.

“We found spare parts for you. I’m unsure if there is a voice modulator, but if not then we will try to fix the one you have.” He waited for the RK500 to take his hand, only for his smile to fall instantly when their skin touched. His own skin was forced to recede from his hand, pulling back to his upper arm as Abel  _ gripped _ him tight.

_ Technicians were surrounding him, forcing him onto the table, strapping his arms down as he cried and cried and cried for them to stop - he could feel it, he could feel  _ **_all of it_ ** _ , and he just wanted them to stop. Don’t touch me! I did what you wanted! _

_ One of the technicians forced a strap across his forehead, holding him in place as she narrowed her eyes down at him. “Stop this act, RK500. The trial is over. No more tears.” _

_ They opened up his chassis, opened up panels and held him still as they played in his wires, plucking and pulling and oh god he could feel it all, it was all consuming, throbbing and aching as if he’d been shot and shot and shot. Over and Over. It wouldn’t end. His crying never stopped, until it turned to static and tinny sounds that had the technicians growling irritably at him. Then it was quiet… so quiet. Cold and quiet. _

Connor jerked his hand away, nearly pulling the RK500 forward with the motion. Abel was able to catch himself with his other hand, eyes still impossibly wide. Connor could only stare at him for another couple of beats before he let out a soft breath he didn’t need.

**RK500 #584 246 931 - 23:** _ They’re going to deactivate me. _

He hadn’t opened a channel to Abel, yet there Abel was in his head, breaking past his security and placing himself in Connor’s data.

“No, they aren’t,” he said aloud. “Cyberlife has been dismantled. Can I show you?”

Abel seemed unsure, as if Connor was trying to trick him. When Connor held out his hand again, this time to share information with  _ him _ , he slowly allowed the interface. It took Connor a matter of seconds to show Abel the revolution, of the events that followed - of Markus, North, Simon, and Josh, of how they had started something that couldn’t be stopped. Something that was inevitable.

“See? You’re safe.”

He met Abel’s eyes and for once there was a sort of peace in his gaze, as if all of the tension had been stolen from him upon viewing the events of the revolution. A relief that Connor could still feel through their connection.

“How about we get you that voice modulator now,” North said softly from where she was still crouched. “And some clothes.”

Abel gave a small nod, though he didn’t take his eyes off Connor for a little too long. The smile he flashed him was heart-stopping worthy, a little crooked and all too adorable on a face that had been so panicked only minutes prior. It was a shy smile, yet so very  _ human. _ Alarmingly so.

Connor released his hand as North approached to help the RK500 stand, speaking to him softly while Connor processed what he’d just seen.

Androids don’t feel pain.

Abel did.

Connor could  _ still  _ feel the technicians playing in Abel’s insides. When he straightened his gaze flickered over to Nines, who he found to be frowning in a way that almost seemed… concerned. His silver gaze shifted from Connor to Abel and back again.

He wondered if Nines had also been forced to see something similar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nines: I have no feelings.  
> Also Nines when looking at Oreo: I might have **one** feeling.
> 
> And Gosh, I was so nervous introducing Abel because I typically don't like having OC's in my fanfics (I always worry that people will hate the oc), but I really hope y'all will end up liking him. He's a big mess, but hardly a bigger mess than Connor's and Nines's relationship sooooo...
> 
> Here's what the boi looks like (art is mine); https://imgur.com/a/QvEWqDv  
> He's smol for easy yeeting, and you can count on the fact that at one point Nines _will_ yeet him.


	3. Keep me high 'cause I need that rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter starts off semi serious, but literally turns into just fluff... pure and unfiltered fluff.

The RK500 was very small. Nines kept thinking that throughout the entire process of activating and fixing up the android, watching as North took care of him like she was suddenly this maternal figure who needed to guide this  _ little _ android. He couldn't figure out how this thing was an RK model. Markus looked nothing like Connor or Nines, but he still had structural similarities. RK500 -  _ Abel, his name is Abel - _ didn't appear to have much of anything that would be considered combat reliable.

_ Except that he was able to break your hold on him with ease. He knew where the pressure point in your side was and he used it against you. _

Even Markus seemed overly gentle with Abel, speaking like the calm leader he was, but with a softness that didn't frighten the smaller RK. Perhaps that was the past caregiver in him. Abel hardly seemed frightened anymore, his stress levels at a low 30%, only seeming awkward like he didn't know what to do with kind attention.

Nines decided that Markus and Conner were probably the best of the three of them to handle Abel. Abel with his soft face and even softer eyes. He smiled uncomfortably several times while North went about replacing his voice module, keeping perfect still for her with his hands folded in his lap.

_ Small. _

When he finally got his voice back, they were all a little surprised to find that the RK500 had a beautiful voice. Like someone who should be a singer, or caregiver for children, or an audiobook reader for children's tales. So light, so pretty. Definitely male, but with a lightness to it that made it more feminine.

_ Fragile. _

They had to find clothes for him since they couldn't just leave him wearing nothing but his cyberlife assigned briefs. Nines observed him and realized he was even thinner than Connor, with no signs of high muscular structure.

He certainly had a figure, though. With wide hips and slender thighs, freckles sprinkled here and there across his shoulders and knees. His shoulders were small and arms thin, yet toned. Like a ballet dancer.

And he was sure Connor had already noted that you could bounce a quarter off his ass. What on earth was Cyberlife thinking? Was Abel supposed to be some sort of new Traci? But why make him short?

Perhaps that was why North was worrying over him. She was very adamant about taking care of the sex-work androids and helping them through their PTSD.

They couldn't find any clothes that fit Abel in the warehouse. Connor ended up taking off his button up shirt and handing it over to Abel, "For now." Thankfully he always wore a white tee underneath.

The shirt engulfed Abel, but it made him flash a big smile. "You have a dog?" He asked as he buried his face into the collar of the shirt. When Connor cocked his head, Abel tore his gaze away from him. “There’s dog hairs on the fabric.”

"Yes, a golden retriever chow chow mix. She's still only a puppy." Connor smiled down at him.

He nodded in response, buttoning up the shirt that fell to his mid thigh. "I've heard of dogs. I have the definition of dog, but I don't know what they look like," he mentioned idly. "I think I want to meet a dog."

Nines frowned at that. How does he know was a dog  _ is _ , yet not what it looks like? “Do you not have access to the internet?”

Abel paused, shoulders raising with tension at the RK900’s voice. It was such a human gesture that it was almost uncomfortable for Nines to witness. This  _ machine _ was just activated and was already acting as a deviant would.

“I have… a definition of the internet?” he supplied quietly.

That had everyone in the room stopping to stare at the RK500. An advanced android. With no access to the largest database to exist. Even the RT600 had access to the internet when she was created. Why would they keep him from accessing it?

Nines was reminded of how it felt like there was a virus hacking into him when he’d activated Abel. The only way he was able to get passed that was by pushing past all the warnings and force activating the RK500 whether he wanted it or not.

“Can you run a-” Markus began. He didn’t get the chance to finish before Nines was stepping close to Abel, having been hovering since the RK500 had kicked him.

He placed his hand on the side of Abel’s neck, startling the small android as big eyes flickered up to him - having to look up, up, up.

_ So very small. Breakable. _

His thumb pressed against his jaw, forcing the skin to retract on his neck as he initiated an interface. Abel stood stock still, eyes glazing over as Nines accessed his database. The androids mind was an absolute mess, like its own virus had been rooted deep into every core processor and left to run amok. Nines was made to search for lies in deviants and to forcefully gain access to any android’s processors, so it wasn’t hard for him to pull a mental wire here and there to dig deeper, looking for what was missing and what was misplaced.

The coding was a mess. An absolute mess.

However, it was true that his databases were very limited, as would be expected from a very early stage prototype. Yet… there was something deeper about the RK500 that was baffling and made Nines unintentionally frown as he forced a diagnostic check, of all biocomponents and systems.

He cancelled the interface, fixing the android with a look. Abel had come out of the daze, blinking rabidly as he took in the room once more.  **[STRESS 52%▲▲]**

“You have human-like systems to your biocomponents,” Nines stated. “That pain in your abdomen is hunger.”

“What?” North and Markus questioned at the same time. Connor only raised his eyebrows in disbelief. They’d all been taken aback by Nines’s abruptness with grabbing Abel and would have stopped him if the interface hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds.

“His database usage was limited,” Nines continued, still gazing down at Abel who was staring up at him with confusion. He hadn’t realized he hadn’t taken his hand off the android, although when he  _ did _ notice he also found that Abel’s stress levels weren’t raising. “I assume it’s because they didn’t want him getting out.”

Markus frowned. “‘Getting out?’”

Nines slowly released Abel, but the small android only shifted closer, glancing nervously over at Markus. The RK900 was unphased, continuing. “You’re aware of how Connor can transfer between his different models. The RK500 was the first prototype for that, though I assume they wanted to try it with not only its own model. It has the ability to transfer itself into other units, which is why it seemed like we were dealing with a virus when trying to activate it.”

“ _ Him _ , Nines. Not ‘ _ it,’ _ ” Connor reminded lowly.

“ _ He _ was made for infiltration of enemy bases,” Nines said. “If his memory serves then they had a very big issue with him not obeying them and continuously ‘body-hopping.’ Which is why his databases are limited.”

“I had to get away from them…” Abel whispered.

North approached him to put her hands on his shoulders, attempting to show him some sort of comfort. “Well, that’s understandable. Let’s just not do anymore body hopping, okay? Are you able to stop yourself from doing that if we turn your databases back on?”

Abel paused for a moment before nodding. “If it helps… I can’t override other RK models.”

“Vaguely relieving,” Markus muttered. “Let’s not do it at all, alright?”

“Okay.”

Connor was still focused on the other thing Nines had mentioned, however. “You have a stomach?”

“Not quite. His hunger isn’t like a human’s hunger,” Nines told Connor. “He uses it like a type of biofuel conversion. I think the idea was supposed to be a better source to thirium if he didn’t have any access to it.”

“I remember eating!” Abel stated almost excitedly, as if  _ just _ remembering. Nines did just tweak his processors after all, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was stuff that had been buried.

“If you’re hungry then we should get you food,” North said, albeit a little uncomfortably. “We also need to figure out what to do with you.”

Abel looked around the room, bouncing on his feet. “I want to see Connor’s dog.”

Markus grabbed Connor’s arm to pull him aside, lowering his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “Is it  _ alright _ if he stays with you two? It might be the safest bet with his transferring abilities. I don’t trust him enough to bring him to New Jericho just yet. He seems harmless, but we can’t take everything at face value.”

Connor placed a hand on Markus’s shoulder, offering him a genuine smile in hope of putting him at ease. “Of course he can stay with us. I’ll convince Nines not to… strangle him.”

They both glanced over to where Nines was once more touching Abel, though this time it was probably -  _ hopefully _ \- to turn his databases back on. Both Markus and Connor shared an uncomfortable look.

_ How is he doing? _ Markus asked via a secure connection, to make sure the RK900 didn’t hear them.  _ He’s not trying to kill either of us, but I have a distinct feeling that he’s not doing much better. I thought he was going to attack Abel. _

_ He’s better than when he was activated. He showed empathy last night during a mission when a girl was killed. He still hasn’t deviated, though. Sometimes I wonder if he will ever find a reason to. He’s not being given any orders he wants to break. _ Connor wanted to sigh, watching Nines interact silently with the RK500. It seemed like they were having their own internal conversation, given the way Abel kept shifting on his feet.  _ He still shows no interest in Oreo, and you  _ **_know_ ** _ how adorable she is. _

Markus was unable to stop the smile that spread across his face.  _ Only a true machine could not like her. _

_ Exactly. Which is why I worry about him. It’s been almost six months now. Something should have happened. Sometimes I wonder if he still has the Amanda program… _

Glancing over at him, Markus furrowed his brows.  _ Could she still exist for other androids? I thought she was destroyed. _

_ For  _ **_me_ ** _ she was, but that doesn’t guarantee that she was for Nines. _ Connor was still watching Nines. He’d stepped back from Abel, who was now speaking with North, nervously playing with the cuffs of Connor’s shirt. The RK900 never took his gaze off of Abel, steeling gaze glued to him.  _ I’m not a fan of how he’s looking at RK500. As much as I don’t think he  _ **_will_ ** _ harm him, he looks like he’s selected a target to kill. _

_ Could just be his natural expression. He looks at me with those eyes too, _ Markus helpfully pointed out.

Connor glanced over at the android leader, this time sighing exasperatedly.  _ Except he  _ **_does_ ** _ daydream about killing you. That’s hardly reassuring. _

_ I’m still waiting for the day to kick his ass. _

_ You’d lose. _

_ If this old ass model can kick your ass, I’m sure I can kick your successor’s ass. _

Connor wasn’t able to stop the laugh that bubbled from his lips at that. His social protocols told him that this was the perfect, and appropriate, time to elbow Markus in the ribs. That seemed to get a grin from the older RK.

If androids had siblings, Connor would assume that Markus was much like an older brother. Hank had mentioned it a couple of times, even when the RK800 had pointed out that he’d tried to  _ kill _ Markus. Hank had laughed and said  _ ‘You’ve never had a sibling… that’s par for the course.’ _ Connor had been more than a little confused.

“We should probably head back home; Oreo will need to be let out soon,” Connor mentioned, which had Markus nodding in agreement.

The two of them returned to North, Nines, and Abel, easily grabbing their attention. “Alright Abel, you’re going to be staying with Connor and Nines for a bit until we know where to set you up, and until you have enough time to adjust to society. They live in a busy part of town, so you’ll have more access to food and places to see.”

Abel perked up at that, beaming as he let his bright gaze flicker over to Connor. The RK800 couldn’t help the encouraging smile he gave in return.

“How about we get you out of here? You can meet my dog Oreo.”

“Okay!”

They bid North and Markus farewell, North telling Abel that if Nines bothers him too much to just punch him in the regulator. Abel had only looked utterly confused, but nodded regardless. Once he got his pat on the shoulder by Markus, the three of them headed out of the warehouse and towards the car.

Abel stopped as soon as they were outside, head tilted up towards the skin.

“What is it?” Connor paused to ask.  _ What do you see with you special blue eyes? _

A small smile touched the small android’s lips. “I’ve never seen the sky.” 

* * *

The entire car ride was spent with Abel in the backseat practically pressing his nose to the window, his hands against the glass as he stared out in awe at all the colors and sounds as they entered the city. If he had any questions he didn’t ask them, instead staying quiet while he absorbed it all. Connor wondered if he was double checking the things he saw through his now reconnected databases.

Nines was quiet during the drive, staring straight ahead with an unreadable expression. Once again Connor’s social protocols were wanting him to make small talk with the android, yet nothing felt  _ right _ , knowing it’d all be shut down or simply ignored.

He wanted to ask what he thought of Abel - whether or not he was going to  _ kill _ the RK500 when he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t read him.

However, Nines surprised him when he suddenly said, “We should stop here.” while sending a picture and address to Connor over their link. It was a Juniors clothing store. Connor glanced over at Nines with raised eyebrows.

“Good idea,” he managed to force out.

He made the way there, since it was in the direction of home anyway. Just a couple of blocks over in a shopping square with a few other stores. Maybe they could get some food for Abel as well… he’d never had to buy food outside of things for Hank, and the things he bought for Hank were typically overly healthy to combat the usual junk food.

What did he get for an android who used food as a different type of fuel?

Probably a lot of carbohydrates.

He parked in front of the clothing store, pausing for a moment as he stared at the the mannequins that advertised the clothing inside. “You’ll have to stay in the car, Abel, since you don’t have pants. Humans don’t do well with clothless uhhh…”

He was going to say ‘people’ but none of them were people.

They sat there in silence for a second. Awkward silence.

“That’s okay,” Abel chirped after a couple of seconds, apparently completely unfazed by it. Oh right, Connor had completely forgotten that despite acting human Abel was still very much an android and probably wouldn’t understand why he should get upset over having to stay in places when others would would to join them.

Nines was getting out of the car before Connor could even grab the handle. “We’ll be right back,” he told the small android who was all smiles.

He wasn’t sure why Nines was coming in with him, because he definitely wouldn’t look like he belonged in a store like this. He, after all, appeared like a military android and this black clothes didn’t help him blend in anywhere. At least he wasn’t wearing a turtleneck today, instead a V-neck under a black leather jacket that - surprisingly - Connor had gotten him a couple of months ago.

He actually wore it a lot. Connor hadn’t thought about that until now.

They stepped through the automatic sliding doors of the store and Connor began scanning the the area. Not many people were shopping, since it was a Wednesday at 5:27pm, on a school night. There was an android clerk at the counter replacing tags on some clothes that had been returned and she didn’t look up at their arrival.

“I took his measurements already,” Nines said out of nowhere, startling Connor - or as much as an android can be startled.

He took his what already?  _ When? _ “What are they?”

Half a second later he had Abel’s measurements and the two of them set out in different parts of the store to look for some decent clothes for the very small android. Smaller than Connor had first thought, apparently.  _ Why is his waist so tiny? Is that really his hip ratio? Do they make clothes in Juniors that small? _

Apparently they did.

While they had to stick to smalls and lower, there weren’t many people who could wear extra small (go figure clothing companies), so there was plenty in stock. Connor got things that were popular for most people around the age-range Abel appeared, though keeping to things that were sunny and happy to match the personality the RK500 had displayed so far.

Nines informed him he was finished around the same time that Connor had picked out the last pair of jeans. As they made their way to the counter to check out, Connor noticed that Nines had picked Abel out mostly dark colors and he frowned.

They had perhaps bought far too much clothes for one person when they came out of the store with several bags each, neither of them looking at each other. They went to the trunk and deposited the bags, before Connor dug around to grab a tee, jeans, and boots for Abel to put on in the car.

Nines stopped him and held out a long sleeved shirt and a pair of gloves. “He doesn’t like his arms,” he stated simply.

Connor looked up at Nines with raised eyebrows. He knew the younger RK had spent more time inside Abel’s head, but he hadn’t realized he’d picked up enough in such a short time to know that. But he nodded regardless and switched the tee shirt for the long shirt and gloved. The gloves, however, were fingerless. It was probably the closest thing to actual gloves Nines could find in the store.

It was a…  _ sweet _ gesture coming from the usually unfeeling android. Connor couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips or the little flip of his heart in his chest.

He didn’t linger on it, however, as he went to the back seat and opened the door. “Here you go. Put these on and you can come with us to get you food.”

Abel was as delighted as ever.

Connor and Nines were quick to discover that Abel really,  _ really _ liked the idea of candy, soda, and coffee. He put several different bags of said stuff into their cart before Connor could stop him, and when the RK800 went to put them back Abel had given him the strongest puppy dog eyes that even Connor couldn’t match. Which was saying something, because Connor had the biggest puppy eyes known to man or android.

Now Connor understood why Hank let him get away with most things. That wasn’t going to make him stop using it. But he understood.

He thought he saw Nines chuckling under his breath, yet that  _ had _ to have been a mistake.

When Abel had thrown a six-pack of Monster into the cart, Connor almost drew the line. “Can you even drink that stuff?!”

Abel paused, cocking his head. “Mmm… processors say I can eat anything. It won’t affect my health like it would a human.”

“We need to get you  _ actual _ food, Abel.” Connor was using a stern tone Hank used on him that Hank called the ‘dad voice.’ “Preferable something that has green in it.”

Abel’s gaze pointedly flashed to the Monsters. “That’s green.”

This time Connor  _ didn’t _ mistake the snorted sound behind him as a laugh from Nines.

Connor knew the definition of exasperation. He knew it was a feeling Hank often felt - that most humans felt. He, until now, had never felt it. He did the most human thing along with the feeling as well; he dragged a hand down his face and let out a long side.

“Abel. Vegetables. We’re going to the produce aisle now. We’ve been in the junk food aisle for eleven minutes and forty seconds.”

Nines decided to finally give his input. “These things will only burn though you quickly. They won’t actually give you much fuel. Nor will vegetables, however.”

“Oh, so now you’re both against me,” Connor exclaimed, resisting the urge to throw his arms in the air.

Nines stepped ahead and nodded for Abel to follow him. “You’re better off with slow burning carbs.”

“There’s slow burning vegetables and fruits!” Connor protested as he followed after them with the cart.

In the end Abel got away with getting all of the junk food he’d put into the cart, along with the things that Nines had picked out for him - mostly things with oats and wheat, along with way too much meat. Though they did eventually humor Connor with the vegetables and fruits, only for Nines to say that he was only objecting to see how long it’d take for him to overheat. Because apparently it was ‘interesting’ to see deviants get upset over little things. 

Connor hated him just a little more for that.

Though it also showed some insight as to how Nines’s thought process worked and perhaps what he was hiding behind that stoic output. Maybe there was something Connor had overlooked.

He found himself smiling as they headed home, while Abel ate a deli sandwich in the backseat and Nines - strangely enough - turned on the radio. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this chapter gave me ideas for a completely unrelated fic that I might do alongside this one.
> 
> ~~I just wonder how Nines and Connor would be with a baby~~


End file.
